


Creative With My Thanks

by FoxyWolfMeerkat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxyWolfMeerkat/pseuds/FoxyWolfMeerkat





	Creative With My Thanks

Hanhari pulled away from the kiss slowly, staring into the moonlit, silverite eyes. “You’ve definitely been the best part of this night.”  
“Well, I am a very skilled dancer.”  
“You are. And while it is unbelievably romantic out here… I think it would be a shame if not everyone got to see just how skilled you are.” The elf smiled, starting to pull the other mage back into the ballroom.  
“What?” Dorian gasped softly, “Amatus, are you sure?”  
“We are missing about ten silk scarves but yes, I’m sure regardless.” Once they were both in view of _Dorian wasn’t even sure how many_ Orlesian nobles, Hanhari bowed to him and offered the still stunned Tevinter a hand. “May I have another dance?”

* * *

He was adorable. There was no better description for it in Dorian’s eyes as the little elf pulled him into _their_ room for the night. Covered in a wide smile and giggling without reserve regardless of who might have seen. The human kicked the door shut behind them before being dragged over and pushed down onto the luxurious bed.  
“Dorian, thank you.”  
“Thank me? Whatever for?” The kiss he got wasn’t an answer but he wasn’t going to complain.  
Hanhari could only giggle more as he pulled himself back for more air, “For… For dancing with me. For coming at all. For making my night.”  
“Amatus, you’ve already thanked me for all of those things.” Another kiss, and a hand tugging at that blue sash on his waist. Then promptly undoing the belt helping to secure it.  
“Oh, you’re right,” Hanhari whispered into his ear. “I should probably be a little more creative how I show my thanks, shouldn’t I?”

Forget Corypheus. This elf was going to kill him.

Hanhari made short work of getting into his pants. Likely because they were wearing essentially the same thing. His small right hand quickly got him hard as they kissed more, hungry. And suddenly the man was on the floor and between his knees. Sharp red eyes looked up to him. “Any objections, ‘ma'lath?”  
“None.”  
“Good.” Hands gripped tightly at his hips, and those heavenly lips kissed his tip. Them more little pecks down to the base of his shaft where Hanhari tilted his head to the side, sealed his lips around the underside and sucked.  
Dorian couldn’t decide if he wanted more to watch or to just let his eyes fall closed and feel it alone.  
It wasn’t the most skilled oral he’d ever received. Dorian was the first person the mage now lapping up his erection had ever had sex with after all. It was enthusiastic though, and affectionate. One hand, the right yet again, had left his hip to smooth up his bared chest, down his not-nearly-bare-enough leg, and then into the human’s own hand.  
Dorian might have been more flustered by that had Hanhari not also used that moment to take the head of his cock into his delightful mouth. One quick suck there and then he was taking even more in.  
Warm and wet and he was obviously copying (or trying anyway) things Dorian had done to him in the past. The heady ‘thanks’ ended with a little hum that made the necromancer’s toes curl (that he’d learned on his own). When the Herald got up, he made a curt show out of undressing.  
Where had he gotten that bottle of oil from? Surely he hadn’t been carrying it with him all night?  
“Would you rather do the honors yourself or watch me? I’ve been practicing when we’re apart.”  
“I certainly hope you don’t mean tonight. I’m not sure Josephine would approve of you fingering yourself behind the backs of all these fine nobles.”  
Hanhari chuckled, “Don’t worry, I’ve only been having fun in private.” He stroked himself gently, looking far too delectable for his own good.  
“I just must see this. For prosperity naturally. Since you’re offering.” Carefully he switched places with the other man, letting Hanhari scoot up to the pillows while he finished undressing. Once settled and comfortable, Hanhari uncorked the discreetly sized bottle of oil and poured nearly all of it into his hand. He warmed it up between his fingers and his palm as Dorian settled between his legs. Then he started rubbing his slicked fingers over his puckered entrance. “How fast should I go?”  
“Oh please, take your time. Everything you’ve done so far as been such a treat after all.” The olive skinned mage rubbed himself leisurely, content to watch.  
Hanhari smiled, “I’m glad. I enjoy catering to you.” Slowly, with his legs spread apart, he pushed the first digit in. The smaller mage breathed steadily, focused on the sensation of his thrusting finger as well as pressing and searching. Dorian’s aroused expression was not helpful to his attempt at even breathing.  
“You are quite lovely like this. It’s a shame we can’t do it more.”  
He eased a second finger in at the sound of Dorian’s voice. His breath hitched before he could get enough air back to answer.

For all Dorian understands that this is more… it’s something better than he’s ever dreamed of to the point of raw surrealism. The circumstances didn’t help. He was in Orlais, in bed with a man who’d maybe only an hour and a half ago saved the Empress of said country with enough panache to put most of the Magisterium to shame, let alone the Orlesian court. That man was also an elf. Oh, and the Herald of Andraste. And the High Lord Inquisitor.

He watched in awe as that man arched below him, moaning his name in a way that sent shivers down his spine and tied his stomach in tight knots. He desperately wanted to be in him now, but should he ask? Or would that make him seem-  
“Dorian?” His voice was wispy and breathless but not without purpose. He’d stopped moving his hand as well. “Are you alright?”  
“I… am. Simply in awe of you.”  
The blush that dusted his tan skin was positively enchanting.  
“Keep going amatus…” Dorian leaned over the other, pressing against his warm figure. “I apologize for interrupting you.”  
He moaned again softly, rocking his hips up. “You can ah-ah-always interrupt me, ‘ma'lath.”  
“Are you ready for me then?”  
He whined beautifully, “I… I want it, but I don’t think so. You’re just… big.”  
“It’s not just size, it’s what you do with it.”  
“Not when I’m quite a bit more physically slight than you.” Slowly he drew his fingers from his body, “B-but you may finish preparing me with your 'magic’ fingers.”  
That was terrible, but he couldn’t muster up the proper irritation in this state. “Would you like me to?”  
“This would go faster.”  
Dorian kissed the 'fiery’ mage as he grabbed the oil. (See, he thought to himself, see how terrible that is?) “I hope you don’t want to rush through all of this.”  
Another kiss, slower this time as if to make a point. “Never. I want you inside me for as long as possible.”  
Dorian gave a shuttering moan. “Heaven help me amatus. You are too much.” He pulled away, slicking up his fingers as best he could and picking up where the other left off. “You were eager to flaunt us before… Would you like to scream my name for all of Halamshiral to hear?”  
Hanhari groaned, rolling his hips into Dorian’s fingers. “So rude. Josephine would lose her-” a gasp as the human’s fingers glanced his sweet spot, “mind.”  
“That is true, but you have the court wrapped around your little fingers.”  
“Them, yes.” He gave the best smile he could between soft sounds, “Cassandra will be less amused.”  
Dorian laughed a bit, keeping his movements smooth. “That’s a good point. Mm… You feel about ready for me.” The eager nod is his amatus gave made him throb.  
The elf’s warm hand rubbed off the remainder of the oil on his palm over his arousal, humming in approval of what he felt. Hanhari’s other hand pulled Dorian for a kiss as he lined the human up. “'Ma'lath, fill me up. Lasal'em mar garun.”  
Well, he couldn’t refuse an order like that. He pushed in slowly, reveling in the sensation. By the sound of his voice, Hanhari appreciated it as well. It wasn’t frantic or pushy. The kisses were leisurely and they moved together. Felt so dreamy, Hanhari sighing and moaning and clinging under him. It was his amatus he was making writhe and cry out his name. It dragged out but admittedly neither mage knew for exactly how long.

As he got close, Hanhari got noisier. Pretty broken Elvhen mixed in with cries of Dorian’s name and drawn out groaning. Dorian curled around his amatus, angling his thrusts to make him scream and burying his face into his slim neck. Nails dug into Hanhari’s hips, Dorian’s back. The elf came first, howling, heels pressing into the human’s back and arching up into him. Dorian didn’t last much longer, muffling his deep groan of Hanhari’s name against his skin. The roll of their hips drew his orgasm out and made Dorian shiver.  
They laid together for a few minutes, loathe to pull apart. “That was wonderful 'ma'lath. Ma serannas.”  
Dorian laughed breathlessly, “Did you really just thank me for having sex with you?”  
The other giggled lightly, “No, Dorian. I thanked you for showing your love for me. For ending my night with something perfect.”  
The necromancer chuckled again, though more tersely. “You’re unbelievable amatus…”  
“Goodnight Dorian,” he leaned up, pecking the human’s lips gently.  
And oh it was so easy to kiss back-  
Carefully, the elf pushed the other mage off of him and cuddled up under his chin once they were both on their sides. “Sleep well. I’ll see you in the morning.”  
“…Goodnight, Hanhari. I… I’m glad you had a good night.”


End file.
